Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Armenia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The J.B.'s to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Cal Tjader,
Barbara Tucker,
Liliput,
Traffic Nightmare,
Section 25,
Loose Ends,
Dead Boys,
ABBA,
R.M.O.,
Cymande,
Mo-Dettes,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cameo,
Vladislav Delay,
Peter and Kerry,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
Cluster,
Stockholm Monsters,
Khruangbin,
Clear Light,
Janne Schatter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The J.B.'s,
The Offenders,
Whodini,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Isaac Hayes,
the Soft Cell,
Chris Corsano,
Outsiders,
Severed Heads,
Black Flag,
Masters at Work,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eurythmics,
The Doors,
Wings,
Television,
Maurizio,
Yaz,
48th St. Collective,
Swans,
Jeff Mills,
Morten Harket,
World's Most,
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
Country Teasers,
Slick Rick,
Slave,
Alton Ellis,
Unwound,
Babytalk,
Smog,
Zero Boys,
Circle Jerks,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.